by Ava Walsh
All of what he had intended seemed like a paltry lie. Just talk? Maybe more than that. Forgive me, Mary.
"Mine."
Chapter Six
Zoe stripped off her clothing when they got to the motel. She held her hand out to Andre. "Care to join me for a shower?"
It would be a lie to say he wasn't tempted. She had a gorgeous body. Her breasts stood high and round, her stomach a flat six-pack. He ached to have the forgetful bliss overrun him and soothe his breaking heart. But the guilt from just looking at her made his cheeks grow warm and he turned away. Mary had told him to go away. Did that make this right?
Mary will never find out, he told himself, straightening his shoulders. I can't base my actions on what she would want me to do. What do I want?
Mary. He wanted Mary. Zoe, for all her gorgeousness, was a poor substitute for Mary's soft body in his arms and the way she looked at him, eyes so full of love. He didn't want Zoe. He wanted oblivion, sure, for this ache to go away. Zoe couldn't give him that.
"You should leave," he grunted. "I don't know what I was thinking, but I don't want you here. I'd rather be alone."
He listened to the cloth slither against her skin as she redressed, not turning until the zip of her jeans told him she was fully clothed. Her expression was calm. Maybe a little disappointed. She seemed to take it in stride, though. There was a sympathetic look about her eyes and she sat down on the bed and patted the space beside her.
"I don't want—"
"We can still talk. I mean, with a specimen like you, I was hoping for something a little more. But if that's not what you want, then just talk. That is why you came back, isn't it?"
Andre ran a hand through his long light brown hair. It tangled around his fingers; he hadn't brushed it in a couple days, merely putting it up into the bun he usually wore it in. Mary had loved his long hair, always running her long, slender fingers through it after he washed it. She once said she wished her own hair felt like his. She thought hers was too thick and coarse. He loved her hair. To him, it was soft and silky.
"Talk about what?" He gingerly sat beside her.
Zoe cocked her head to one side. "It's been a long time since you've seen another Bear. I could tell when you didn't recognize me for what I am. So, how long?"
Andre shrugged, looking at the floor. "Three years. My wife and daughter were both Bears. They died three years ago. Car accident."
It was the lie he told everybody because it was easier to say they had died in an accident than that they were cruelly murdered and he had seen it happen. The only person he had ever told the truth to was Mary. He hadn't meant to. There was just something about her that he trusted with the darkest part of him. Almost the darkest. She thinks I killed the hunters that killed Isadore and Eve. I never told her it was her father and brothers.
"And you've been alone ever since."
Andre had almost forgotten about Zoe, even with her warmth right beside him. He nodded glumly. "It hit me hard."
"And the scar? I've never seen a Bear with one so pronounced."
Andre touched it. "I deliberately made it scar rather than heal. The accident was my fault and I wanted to remember that every time I looked in the mirror."
Zoe frowned. "There are many other Bears, you know. If you don't have an association, there are many who are looking for strong men to help keep bloodlines flowing. We are a dying breed."
She stood and moved to the window, glaring out of it. "Not just Bears. All Shifters. I haven't heard of a Tiger or Lion being seen for years. And as for us… well. I help other Bears find their way to our own kind as much as I can. Somehow we always manage to find one another. But less and less of our children are born with Bears."
"There is a time and season for everything. Perhaps it's just as well that we go extinct of our own accord before humans discover us and put us in zoos or laboratory cages." Andre let out a heavy sigh. "But perhaps we are not dying out. Perhaps we are just evolving."
Zoe turned back to him. "That's a strangely optimistic view for someone that seems so weighted by sorrows."
"It's something Mary would say," he whispered.
"Mary. Was she your wife?"
Andre shook his head. "She is… was… the woman I had lived with for the past four months. She's a Wolf."
"A Wolf?" Zoe's brows climbed high on her forehead. "You mean a werewolf?"
"You think that's strange?"
"Well, yes. Werewolves generally stick to themselves, don't they?"
Andre nodded, his fists clenching as he remembered how tightly Mary's life was controlled by her father.
"Did something happen to her?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"Me," Andre whispered. "I hurt her. I hurt her terribly and I don't see how she can ever forgive me."
Zoe's calm gaze prompted him to continue, so he did. He told her about how he had come across Mary in the dead of winter, far away from her community. He told Zoe how he suspected Mary had been running from them but couldn't take the chance, so he kept her at his cabin to make sure that she wouldn't tell her father he was there. He had been shocked when she scrubbed the cabin from top to bottom, washed all his clothes and made three meals a day that she insisted he eat.
"She cared about me, even though she didn't know me. I thought she was trying to earn my trust so she could make her escape, but she never tried to leave." Andre stared at the dark green and brown striped pattern on the wall. "I especially loved it at night when she read. She was always so immersed in the words that I could have tap-danced naked in front of her and she wouldn't have noticed."
The only thing that brought her from her reading was when she didn't know a word. She asked him, shyly at first, as though expecting to be scolded, but with more confidence as the days went on.
"And even though I only knew her for four months, I love her. I suppose it should have surprised me more than it did, but I've always fallen fast and hard. I wouldn't admit that what I felt for her was love, not even to myself until I let her go and she was going to leave me forever."
Andre drew in a shuddering breath and told Zoe about how he had run after her to the bus station, and how they had returned to the farm to find the livestock slaughtered. His voice grew quieter as he told her about his rage, his accusations, and everything that followed.
Zoe was silent for a long time after he was done. Eventually, she stood up. "And you think she won't forgive you?"
"Even if she does, I'm too dangerous for her to be near. What if… what if it had been her, and not her sister that I attacked? I was so blinded by rage."
Zoe inclined her head slightly. "Still, she deserves to at least have the chance to hear you apologize. I will talk with my contacts. One of them should be able to get a phone number or something."
Andre's heart lifted. "Really? You would do that for me?"
"Yes."
"But why? You don't even know me."
Zoe smirked. "You're one of us. And it's my job to help lost Bears. Besides, if we can find some way to reach the werewolves and bring them into an alliance with us, it can only help our cause."
"Paul Locke will never ally himself with Bears."
Zoe was at the door by that time. "Not even for his daughter, you think? Sometimes a family's love will make a person do unexpected things."
She was gone before Andre could argue the point further. He sat still, brow furrowed. Not even for his daughter. He hadn't gone into detail about what he knew about that werewolf community. And suddenly a rush of anxiety came over him. He had been so worried about what Mary thought of him that he hadn't really stopped to consider what Paul Locke would do to his daughter if he knew she had been involved with a Bear. If he did know…
Andre stood and began pacing. Maybe he should go back, just to make sure Mary had gotten away again. But if she hadn't, then wouldn't him returning be suspicious, and make her situation even worse?
I'll wait for now, he decided. I'll wait and see if Zoe
finds a way that I can contact her. If that doesn't work, I'll go back.
But not for revenge. For Mary.
***
Each time the hammer drove a nail further into the wood, Mary felt like it was nailing her to the floor.
Everything was the same in her old room, but somehow it all seemed alien. The single bed was still in the middle of her room, hand-quilted blankets tucked in tight under the mattress. Her pine dresser sat right beside it with her porcelain doll on top. The wardrobe with Mary's four identical dresses, hand-me-downs from her mother's maternity closet, sat in the corner right next to her hope chest full of baby clothes and the wedding veil that she would never use.
She had been so proud when her father had given her this room for her own. One whole wall was made of windows. And right in the middle was a door that led onto the balcony. But now it was nailed shut from the outside and inside both. There would be no escape through it.
"Don't look like that," Peter said as he put the last nail in. "Father only let you out of the cellar because I promised you wouldn't run away again. And you won't now, will you? I can see it in your eyes that you want to."
He stepped back to admire his work.
"And how did you justify this to Father?" She gestured at the nailed door.
"I told him that you're afraid the Bear will come back for you."
Mary winced. She didn't ask what Peter had told their father about her time with Andre, and neither of them had offered any explanation. But perhaps it was best that she didn't know. "I won't try to run away," she assured him. "There's nothing out there for me anymore."
Peter studied her for a moment and then nodded. "I'll be watching nonetheless, Mary."
"To make sure I don't leave this hell."
"To make sure you don't do anything rash. And that you are being treated properly. If you feel overwhelmed, if you feel like you're being treated unfairly, just come to me and Amy. I'll take care of you."
Mary forced herself to smile and thank him. He smiled back and slipped from the room. After closing the door to ensure she had some privacy, Mary moved to the windows and gazed at the familiar sight of the forest. She began planning on how she would escape.
Chapter Seven
Spring seeped into the world so gradually that when Mary looked out the window and saw the lilacs beginning to bloom, she was shocked at how much time had gone by. She tried to concentrate and think about how long it had been since she last saw Andre, but her days were a blur of cooking, cleaning, mediating squabbles, and helping with schoolwork.
Julia's leg had healed nicely, and the weeks of bedrest had helped to fill out her face. She wouldn't tell Mary what had happened to make her so thin, blaming it on the amount of work she had to do around the house, saying she never had a moment to eat a proper meal.
She was helping Mary peel potatoes for their supper, hands moving rapidly. "I never knew how much you actually do around her," she mentioned. "All this work! I don't know how you've always managed to keep everything in order.
Mary's heart warmed at her comments.
"Thank Luna I'm going to marry before you," Julia continued. "I don't think I could take Mother's demands for another day.
Mary dropped her knife onto the stove beside the pot she was filling with water and went into the pantry.
It was like she never left. She was working just as much as she had when she left, only now she couldn't escape to town for groceries. There wasn't even any sign her parents had missed her. The first thing her mother had said to her on seeing her again was pointing out that she had gained weight.
It wasn't true. Her dresses were all looser on her now than they had been before, but their utter shapelessness obscured the fact that she had a defined waist. So she had let the laundry pile up and the dishes go unwashed for a day while she made herself a pair of trousers on the family's ancient sewing machine. She'd then cut off her dresses at mid-thigh and used the extra fabric to make herself belts to cinch at the waist.
Nobody had commented on her change of style. She had only ever worn those old dresses because she didn't have the time to make herself nice clothes, or the money to buy anything from the stores. She was certain that her father was going to be angry when he found out she had used the fabric meant for his new trousers for hers, but she didn't care.
Unfortunately, every time she tried to slip away from the farm, Peter was there. She never tried to ask him to let her go. She rarely talked to him at all.
Mary sighed as she leaned against the cool wall, inhaling the scent of the bread she had baked earlier that day.
Andre threatened to enter her thoughts, and she concentrated instead on everything she had left to do that day. She couldn't allow herself to cry for Andre–not in front of her family. She only allowed her tears to come at night when she was safe from prying eyes and dangerous questions.
If he hadn't injured Julia, I could have left with him and I wouldn't be stuck here.
No, she couldn't think like that. Mary made herself straighten. Such thoughts made despair fill her heart and leak from her eyes.
The potatoes needed to be put on the stove if they were going to be done for supper. She grabbed a bunch of dried basil to put in the water and returned to her work. Julia was gone. In her place was Peter, clumsily peeling the potatoes.
"I used to be much better at this, but Amy won't let me in the kitchen." He offered her a half-smile. "She says it's her domain and if I am going to start doing housework, she was going to start milking the cows."
"You should have taken her up on that offer," Mary replied, returning to the pile of already-peeled potatoes and dicing them swiftly. "She's awfully pale. She needs to get outside more."
Peter made a noise in his throat. "Mary, I've had a phone call from your Bear."
The knife slipped, narrowly missing her fingers. Mary's heart jumped to her throat and she whirled, eyes bright. She was desperate to hear more, even as she told herself that she couldn't be this excited just to hear her brother mention him. "When?"
Peter stared at the peels in the scrap bucket. "We've been talking for several weeks now."
"You have? Why?"
"Because he wanted to know if you were all right, and I wanted to know if he really cared."
Mary's throat was dry. "And?"
Her brother finally looked at her. "You're miserable here. I can see that, and it breaks my heart. You haven't smiled once since you've been back. And if the Bear really is your soulmate… I can't stand in the way of your happiness. I can't imagine how it would be if I couldn't have Amy with me every day."
"He could have killed Julia." Mary slumped into the chair next to Peter's. "How can I forgive him for that?"
"We have spoken about that, and he seems truly remorseful for it. I can understand his anger at Father for destroying his farm. Although," here Peter shook his head and sliced a little too deep into the potato he was peeling, "he also seems to despise me for it. I suppose he must blame me, but Father already knew he was there. I didn't tell him."
Mary struggled to listen, the words truly remorseful ringing in her ears. If it was true, if Andre really did regret his actions, could she go back to him? Could she forgive him, hold him in her arms again?
"Regret doesn't erase what he did."
Peter put a hand, wet and starchy from potato juice, over hers. "But if he truly is your soulmate, he deserves a second chance, doesn't he? I've arranged for you two to meet in the city on the Full Moon Run. I'm going to leave my truck out on the road a few miles from here. You'll be able to take it to the city."
Mary's heart felt as light as a feather. She didn't think she could be so happy again, and a smile burst over her face. The Full Moon Run happened every month on the night of the full moon. For the five hours starting just before midnight when the moon was in the sky, it was a time when the Wolf could not be repressed and had to run free. Mary had rarely gone on the runs that were so important to the community, having to stay home and
help the little ones make it through the involuntary transformations.
"I've told Father that you are running with Amy and me," Peter continued. "I told him that it will help you feel a bigger part of the family."
Mary embraced her brother. "Thank you."
Tears pricked her eyes. She knew how difficult this must be for him. He was willing to not only help her get away but also return to Andre. This was more than she could find words for. Andre. Her soul sung his name, though she tried to quell the rising desire to see him again. I don't know if I can forgive him yet, she told herself.
But in her heart, she knew that was not true. If he regretted his actions so much that Peter thought he was telling the truth, then it meant he would never do such a thing again.
So of course she forgave him.
***
Andre waited. The night of the full moon was almost done, and a tinge of gray on the eastern horizon promised a bright day. He paced from one end of the motel parking lot to the next, waiting and watching anxiously. Peter Locke had promised Mary would come. Even though Andre feared it was a trap, he had to trust in the love the Wolf would have for his sister. He had to.
When Zoe had brought him Peter's number, he wasn't sure if he would be able to call it. To talk with the monster that had helped kill his wife and daughter… it felt like spitting on their graves. But Mary was worth more than revenge. She was worth more than anger, and so he had called.
A pale green Ford pickup truck pulled into the parking lot. Mary sat in the front seat. The sight of her swelled in his heart, and he rushed to be near her before she had even stopped the vehicle. When the door opened he hesitated, reminding himself to be patient and hold back, because she might not forgive him.
Mary flew into his arms.
Their lips met, hands grasping at each other, bodies pressed together as tightly as they could. She tasted exactly as he remembered, like cinnamon and honey. He teased her mouth open, desperate for more. Something deep inside him pulled him towards her, and his Bear rose, not demanding release, just happy and content to be near her. He thought he heard her Wolf echo.
